


Like rocks and dirty snow

by Saetha



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Cuddling, DWARVES BEING ADORABLE DWARVES, Fluff, Gen, Hair Braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saetha/pseuds/Saetha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin and Dwalin are drunk. There is cuddling, hair-braiding and general cuteness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like rocks and dirty snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuiske](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuiske/gifts).



> Happy Birthday dear Laura! I hope you'll enjoy this one (and I hope everyone else does, too!) <3.

 "Oy, move over."

"Hu?"

"The road isn't wide enough for both of us."

"That's because you're too drunk."

"'m not."

"Yes you are." Thorin put his hand on his hips and stared at Dwalin in what he hoped was an intimidating way. It would have been, hadn't he looked utterly dishevelled and hadn't he kept missing his hips with his hands so that he was stumbling sideways.

"Hahahahaha." Dwalin's dry laughter made Thorin chuckle. His partner didn't seem intimidated at all, simply grinning in Thorin's direction like a particularly satisfied child. Thorin rolled his eyes and fell into step next to him again, ignoring Dwalin's murmurs of 'take care or you'll walk into a wall, the houses are so close'.

Today was the day that Fíli had officially come of age and the celebrations had been a good excuse for the entire settlement to come together for drinking and feasting until long after the sun had set. Dwalin had used the opportunity to get roaring drunk and Thorin was fairly sure he was more than tipsy himself, although he had tried not to completely lose control over himself. He had to admit, however, that he'd lost track of time by now, but at least there wasn't a single shimmer of dawn at the horizon yet.

Thankfully the way from the large hall, where all celebrations and official assemblies were held, was fairly short and they'd walked it so often by now that it was easy enough for them to remember even when they were drunk. It took them a number of tries and a lot of fumbling with the keys to unlock the door, and even more time to drag themselves upstairs and into the bedroom. Dwalin didn't bother with taking any of his clothes off before falling flat onto his face on their bed.

"At least take off your shoes," Thorin mumbled, trying hard to undo the buckles on his own boots. It proved a lot more difficult than he had thought it would be.

"Mhm, 's too comfy," Dwalin murmured and shifted so the he could put his head into Thorin's lap. "Faaaaar too comfy."

"Dwalin, you giant oaf, get off." Thorin pushed at his One's head, to no avail. Dwalin just sighed and wrapped his arms around him.

"No." He sounded rather like a petulant child and Thorin had to bite back a laugh. At least he was finally able to take off his boots and with a sigh and some difficulty in manoeuvring around the giant pile of dwarf on him he managed to get off his belt too. With a satisfied groan he sank backwards until he was laying stretched out on his back, staring at the ceiling of their room which seemed to be spinning ever so slightly. Thorin groaned again and turned to his side, ignoring Dwalin's mumbled protests as he was jostled around. Thorin prodded him.

"Take off your boots, Dwalin. No sleeping with dirty boots in bed. And certainly no sleeping with _me_ with dirty boots."

"You never complain about them when we do it outside," Dwalin protested, his words muffled by the fact that his face was still buried in Thorin's clothes.

"That's because that was outside."

"You're mean."

"I'm not. Now take off your boots." Thorin kept prodding and finally tickling his One until Dwalin groaned and rolled over in order to attempt and take off his sturdy footwear without getting up into a seating position. Thorin watched his attempts without pity, biting back a laugh at the increasingly frustrated growls from his partner when his position and the fact that he had drunk far too much for a decent coordination of his fingers made it seemingly impossible for him to loosen the straps and buckles.

"Stop laughing at me." Dwalin sounded rather offended. "Or I'll throw those boots at your head once I get them off."

"For that to work you'll have to get them off first," Thorin grinned and evaded a badly aimed swat from Dwalin's hands with another laugh. Finally, Dwalin succeeded and made true of his promise to throw at least one of the boots in his direction. Of course it missed and thumped against their large clothing chest in the corner instead. Neither of them thought it worth the effort to go and retrieve it. Instead Dwalin immediately dropped his head on Thorin's chest again, sighing happily at the familiar smell of his One.

"You're still dirty. Take off that shirt. And that belt, too." Thorin punched him lightly in the ribs.

"Is that an order? Or are you trying to seduce me?" Dwalin rolled his hips in what was probably supposed to be a seductive movement. Thorin nearly choked on his own laughter.

"I'm trying to keep our bed clean," he replied and, when Dwalin made no move to get undressed, he got started on taking off his belt.

"Oh-ho. So you were seducing me after all."

Thorin rolled his eyes, choosing not to reply since it was probably easier to get Dwalin to comply like this. It took him a while to at least get the top layer of clothes off his One but at least Dwalin was sort of complying with his efforts, if 'complying' meant making pleased noises every time Thorin was touching him and generally trying to huddle close to him. Thorin was glad nobody else could see them in that moment - seeing their king and captain of the guard behave like two rash youths who'd had far too much to drink for the first time in their lives would probably not have been all too awe-inspiring for his subjects. Not even to think of the kind of comments Fíli and Kíli would make. And the only one even more lewd than them was probably Dís.

When he was done and they were both dressed in nothing but their smallclothes and shirts, Dwalin rolled on his back with a satisfied groan and stared at the ceiling of their room for a while. Then he turned his head and grinned stupidly at Thorin.

"Sex?" he asked.

"No." His answer didn't keep Thorin from plopping his head on Dwalin's shoulder, however. Dwalin pouted.

"Why not?" he asked, his fingers carding themselves through Thorin's hair.

"Because I don't feel like it right now, we are both drunk and you will just fall asleep in the middle of it. Again," Thorin replied honestly, unable to resist the opportunity to annoy Dwalin a little by referring to the incident that had happened a few years ago.

"That happened _once_!" Dwalin complained immediately. "And it was an accident. I hadn't been sleeping well the night before."

Thorin snorted. In truth he just didn't really feel like having sex now - he was too tired and far too comfortable lying on Dwalin's shoulder to do anything else.

"Still no, sorry."

"Alright, fine." Dwalin yawned and shifted slightly so that he could snake his arm around Thorin again. Thorin wriggled his shoulders slightly so that he was lying comfortably in Dwalin's embrace. For a while they didn't talk and Thorin could feel how he was becoming tired, though not sleepy enough to go to bed as of yet. Dwalin seemed to feel the same, for after a while he began to play with Thorin's hair again. Thorin smiled; he knew how much Dwalin loved his hair and truth was that he sometimes rather enjoyed the attention Dwalin was giving it.

"Your hair is a mess," Dwalin murmured all of a sudden. Thorin raised an eyebrow as he turned to look into his partner's face. Dwalin simply held up one offending strand and dangled it in front of Thorin's face, not-so-accidentally tickling his nose in the process. Thorin sneezed and cursed. After a moment, however, he had to admit that Dwalin was right - his hair was matted and tangled and generally made a less than savoury impression if he had to be honest.

"That's because I haven't taken a comb to it since this morning," he admitted. The celebration this evening had just made matters worse.

"Mhmmmm, we can't have that," Dwalin mused. Gently, he pushed Thorin off his shoulder and sat up with a laborious sigh. Thorin felt lazy enough to just stay in his current position and watch Dwalin as he opened a drawer on his nightstand and rummaged in it until he had found a comb. Thorin smiled when he recognised it - it was one of the first courting gifts that Dwalin had ever given him. He hadn't made it himself, but he _had_ killed the warg whose bones it had been made from. It had been a fine gift with numerous ornaments on the handle that Dwalin had designed and helped execute and the bone teeth of the comb strengthened with metal inside so they would not break easily. Thorin found the comb too precious to use on a daily basis, but he loved it whenever Dwalin took it in hand to use on his hair.

"Sit up," Dwalin commanded him gently. "I can't work on that nest on your head when you're lying down like this."

"Oy, be careful what you say to my hair. It might feel insulted."

Dwalin just snorted in reply before reaching out to tickle Thorin’s sides. Few dwarves knew that both Dwalin and Thorin were actually extremely ticklish; Thorin even more so than Dwalin, although he had made Dwalin and Dís swear never to tell another living soul about this mortal weakness of his. He tried to move away from Dwalin’s hands but the alcohol in his blood made his movements sluggish and slow and soon he found himself breathless with laughter, uselessly trying to bat his partner’s hand away.

“Alright, ALRIGHT, stop torturing me, I’m getting up,” he wheezed, waiting for Dwalin to withdraw before sitting up. Dwalin grinned and gripped his shoulders to turn him around a little until Thorin was in the right position. After a moment Thorin felt the gentle pulling at his scalp that signified that Dwalin had begun combing his hair. For all his strength and that fact that many perceived him as a brute, Dwalin was always surprisingly gentle when they were in private, never violent except if they both wanted him to be during bedplay. His fingers were carding softly through Thorin’s hair now, taking out single strands and gently untangling them, smoothing out the last bits with his comb.

Thorin was enjoying his ministrations and closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh. Dwalin was remarkably precise despite his drunkenness, using all his concentration on the task in front of him, even if he was tugging a bit more strongly at Thorin’s hair than usual.

“It’s like a mountain with snow on top,” Dwalin said suddenly. It was so unexpected that Thorin almost choked. “But it’s not like the clean fresh snow on top. It’s like the kind of grey dirty snow next to the forge in winter-“

“Dwalin. What on earth are you talking about?” Thorin tried to rein in his amusement without much success.

“Your _hair_ ,” Dwalin said, sounding surprised that Thorin hadn’t been able to follow his words. “Like snow. Dirty snow. And rock. Silver and dark, you know.”

“I’m not sure whether that just made it better or worse,” Thorin murmured, trying uselessly not to break out into laughter. Wherever that thought had just come from in Dwalin’s head, at least there wasn’t any more of it for now. Dwalin gave a deep sigh as if he was still contemplating the secrets of Middle-Earth and all the sky around it before he picked up the comb again and continued his work.

Thorin had to admit that Dwalin’s work with the comb had done his hair a world of good, although he was fairly sure that a good wash soon surely wouldn’t be amiss. He told his partner as much after he had run his fingers through his hair and Dwalin nodded, evidently proud of his work.

“Give me the comb,” Thorin told him and held out his hand. Dwalin obliged.

“Now it’s your turn,” Thorin grinned, before smoothing out the long hair reaching down half the length of Dwalin’s back. It was just as matted and tangled as Thorin’s had been, if not worse. Thorin did just as Dwalin had done, the movements of how to untangle and smooth out chaotic hair ingrained into him from childhood. It took him less long than it had taken Dwalin to do his hair, but he could see that his partner enjoyed being cared for in such an intimate way at least as much as Thorin did, if not more. Once he was done, Thorin carefully set the comb aside and leaned forward to press a kiss on Dwalin's bare shoulder. Dwalin mumbled something under his breath in pleasure and Thorin smiled.

"There, all done," he said belatedly.

"Mhmmmm." Dwalin seemed to enjoy Thorin's undivided attention way too much to want him to stop now. Thorin laughed. When Dwalin noticed that Thorin was indeed done, he turned around with a sigh.

"Want me to braid your hair?" he asked. Thorin stilled in his movements for a moment before he smiled.

"If you can still manage it with the amount of coordination you're displaying at the moment?" he grinned. Dwalin feigned a punch in his direction.

"Shut up." He motioned Thorin to turn around again, so he could get started on braiding.

"Which beads and clasps would you like?" he asked after a moment.

"Whichever ones you think work best," Thorin replied. Dwalin had always been good at choosing the right hair ornaments, much better than Thorin himself. Dwalin's fingers had always been rather nimble and very good at braiding too, even now that the alcohol in his blood made it more difficult for him. Dwalin was humming quietly as he began parting Thorin's hair into strands and then braiding some of them, securing the ends with clasps and beads. As before, Thorin enjoyed the slight tugging at his scalp - even drunk, Dwalin had never been anything but careful with him. It took him a lot longer than usual and when Thorin felt the braids afterwards, they were slightly lopsided, but he didn't truly mind. Hair braiding amongst dwarrows wasn't just a procedure to improve their looks; it served just as much to strengthen the bond between them, and as such only immediate family members or close friends and partners were allowed to comb one's hair, let alone braid it. For Thorin it was the ultimate admittance of trust to turn his bare back to someone without knowing what they were doing and Dwalin knew it.

"Wait, there are two more." Dwalin motioned him to turn around to face him and careful reached for the two braids framing Thorin's face and reaching down to his shoulder. They were rather frazzled since Thorin hadn't renewed them in days. Dwalin took out the two beads at their ends and carefully began undoing them, combing through the matted hair and them braiding them again.

Thorin couldn't help but adore the look of utter concentration on Dwalin's face as his fingers, more slowly than usual, went through the familiar movements of doing the little four strand braids and the special care he took with the hair beads when he fastened them again. They were some of the few heirlooms Thorin still had left from their time in Erebor - the first beads that had ever been gifted to him by his family on the day he had been born and he had worn them every day ever since his hair had been long enough.

"There you go." Dwalin let go of the two braids and smiled at Thorin.

"Well done," Thorin grinned at him and shifted slightly so that he could lean in for a kiss that Dwalin reciprocated happily. With a sigh he turned so that he could put his head on Dwalin's shoulder, Dwalin's arms snaking around him again.

"Your braids will get messed up," Dwalin whispered in his ear. Thorin laughed.

"You can always redo them, no?"

"Mhm."

Without warning, Dwalin let himself fall backwards, ignoring Thorin's protesting little noise as he was dragged down with him. They curled up next to each other like two puppies, Dwalin's fingers idly playing with the braids in Thorin's hair until both of them soon fell into heavy sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> In a way, there is a actually a little sad behind this, because I think sober Thorin would never be so happy and carefree in a way...


End file.
